Free Falling
by thegirlwhowaited411
Summary: After S.H.I.E.L.D's unexpected collapse, former agent Rebecca Jones finds herself working with the Avengers. Soon after, Stark Tower gets a confused Winter Soldier banging down the front doors. Even with her criminal father's past creating major issues in the present, it's now up to Rebecca to untangle what's left of Bucky Barnes. Bucky/OC
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**A/N: Welcome to the start of my first Marvel fanfic! I plan to continue for as long as writers block holds off. Feel free to critique, review, and leave suggestions! Bucky will appear soon enough, don't worry.**

**Disclaimer: Marvel owns all recognizable characters, buildings, gadgetry, etc. My OC's are mine; yada yada. **

Rebecca Dorothy Jones was hanging 700 feet above the sidewalks of Seattle when news of S.H.I.E.L.D's demise reached the internet. Rain pelted against the surface she was climbing, as it is wont to do to anything in the Puget Sound area. Wind whipped around her frame, threatening to tear her off of the 56th floor window of the Columbia Tower. Ignoring the mind numbing cold, Jones continued to make her way up vertically. Hand over hand, one foot over the other. Specialized gloves and boots detached and gripped the wet, slick glass surfaces of the building, in near silence. Everything was going to plan.

A thick raindrop managed to make its way between her mask, and underneath the collar of her jumpsuit. Her shoulders rolled to try and get rid of the awkward sensation of water rolling down her neck, but the figure dressed all in black quickly got back to climbing. Now was not the time for distractions. She had an elite party full of multi-billionaires like Bill Gates, Harry Osbourne, and Tony Stark to crash. Speaking of... Jones twisted around to look out over the various towers, the waterfront, and even the colorful ferris wheel to locate the residence of Bill Gates. She tutted, tongue clicking briefly. "I though it would be larger." The tallest building in Washington State was the perfect place to sight see from... Too bad sight seeing wasn't why she was clinging to the Tower.

For ten minutes the woman made her journey upwards, stopping to avoid the eyes of multiple guards. Security cameras were easy enough to time her maneuvering around, and weren't an issue. Breaking and entering was just her cup of tea. High risk espionage though, that was going to be a fun new bit to her assignment. A lightweight, waterproof backpack was looped over her shoulders, cinched around her muscled waist. Inside was a strapless gown, complete with a pair of white stilettos. Her hair and makeup was already done; hidden underneath her normal hood and goggled mask. Normally The Black Widow would be here instead, wooing men for their secrets, but apparently she was preoccupied with another mission. As of last night, S.H.I.E.L.D operative Rebecca Jones had been promoted from undercover agent surveying Boeing personnel to stealing important flash drives from embassy-men. All that was left between her and completing the mission was the window into the ladies powder room on the top floor. Easily fixed.

Slowly peering into a smaller window, Jones was both surprised and relieved to discover the window belonged to an empty bathroom stall. Scurrying towards the upper part of the window, the agent turned herself upside down to face the sidewalk over 900 dizzying feet below her. Eh. She'd climbed higher. Planting both feet flat on glass, she slowly drew herself into a crouching position. With a deep breath, she released her left hand from its grip on the clear surface. Shaking water off of her fingertips, she then did the same with her right hand. A grin graced her face beneath her mask as she thought back to her father teaching her how to do this crazy balancing act. "Hope you're proud Pops."

She clapped her hands together.

Water sprayed from between her palms.

Water which then started to sizzle between her fingertips.

A familiar buzz soon engulfed the entirety of her hands, emitting what looked like a soft purple glow through her night-vision goggles. To the naked eye, nothing abnormal would be seen. Just a boring pair of black gloves. Deft fingers traced a large circle in the glass, melting away in the intense heat. By deactivating the heat producing mode in her gloves, Jones gently pushed the large plate of glass inwards with one palm, letting it stay stuck to her hand to avoid it shattering against the bathroom counter inside. It was set silently down on the granite. Her entire body soon was inside as well.

She was in without incident. Wonderful. Now to get dressed. After locking the door, Jones ripped off the backpack and set it on the counter. All of its contents were dumped out, and Jones set to work. First her boots came off, then her jumpsuit. Just as she was about to slip the gown on, her headpiece crackled to life.

"Agent Jones? Agent Jones. Abort mission. I repeat, abort mission. S.H.I.E.L.D has be compromised from within. Get out of there and find a safe place." Agent Maria Hill's panicked voice broke through static, stunning The half-dressed agent. "Do you copy?"

"I copy. What-"

"No time to explain. I'll send someone to find you if any one's left. Get Out Of ."

The next twenty seconds were the most panic-filled, and frenzy-like of Rebecca Jones' entire career. She was fully dressed and back out the window as fast as lightning. She could hear footsteps pounding towards the bathroom from the inside; muffled by the shouting of billionaires inside. What was going on? It didn't matter. The mission was compromised, and someone was probably coming to kill her. Time to go.

Throwing her arms straight out to her sides, she started to run down the building-face; not caring for guests or guards to see her. Her jumpsuit became rigid supporting her structure as she ran; keeping her body horizontal to the ground below. It was crazy. Running towards what otherwise would have been a death plummet. The farther away she got, the more panic she felt. Gunshots erupted from above, spattering the windows with a rain of bullet casings. Feet ran faster. She was practically flying.

Floor 73.

Floor 68.

Floor60.

An explosion of glass far above registered somewhere in the back of the woman's mind. A few seconds later a body fell past her, then another. Two bodyguards, dead. Suddenly, something large and heavy slammed straight into her side; disconnecting her feet from the Columbia Tower completely and knocking the air straight out of her lungs.

"Looks like you could need a hand, Princess." Tony Stark's voice joked from within the Iron Man suit.

"I wasn't expecting you to drop bye Mr. Stark." Rebecca gasped, gripping tightly to the suit. Seattle flew by at rocket speed, rain pelting them like mini water bombs.

"I wasn't expecting S.H.I.E.L.D. to blow up and reveal all of it's database online either, but consider me surprised."

"What happened?" She asked, but her question fell on deaf ears as Tony Stark kept on with his rambling.

"You're lucky I always have JARVIS running on S.H.I.E.L.D's radio frequency, or else I never would have known we had a daredevil agent running up Tower tonight... Or rather, fleeing down it."Lucky indeed, the female agent thought with a shudder. She could have ended up like those body guards, a bloody pancake on cement. Tony continued to fly; taking her past the The Space Needle, over the lakes, and into Northern Seattle. "I've got a safe house here that isn't on any S.H.I.E.L.D database. You'll be safe tonight while I help figure out this mess." Safe from what though?

"Stark, thank you, really." Said Jones as she squirmed in his metal grip. She'd never actually met the billionaire before."Seriously though, you need to tell me what's going on. S.H.I.E.L.D's compromised from within? What the hell does that mean?"

"Oh, I don't need to tell you, Sweetheart." The suit slowed to a stop and touched base in an alleyway. Rebecca was released from its grip, feet hitting hard pavement for the first time that evening, and took a moment to massage her ribs where he had hit her back at The Columbia. Tony looked around, checking if the coast was clear. Deeming it so, the suit deactivated and folded itself into a red and gold suitcase. "You'll understand as soon as you turn on the tv."Still clad in her full body burglarizing suit, she followed him through a couple of streets; careful to always stick to the shadows. Who knows what enemies were around.

"Here we go." A dingy apartment complex stared back at them. "Third floor Princess, apartment 307..." He dug around in his suit breast pocket to grab a set of keys. He gestured to a staircase, his figure barely visible in the darkness. "Shall we?"

"Might as well."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**A/N: Thank you for all of the follows and favorites I received! I was off camping with no internet for quite awhile, so I was unable to post. Imagine my joy when I came back to see people actually liked what I had written so far! If you have the time, I'd love a review. :)**

**Alright, without further ado, I present to you, Chapter two!**

"Okay, I lied. It's not much better than the outside." Tony coughed, slightly embarrassed at the run down interior of his safe house. He promptly closed the door and set his armor briefcase down. The apartment was small, musty, and had not seen residency in quite awhile. As Tony closed the door, Agent Jones stepped foot into the space; her fingers fidgeting to take off her gloves. He flipped the nearest light switch which in turn lit two low-hanging light bulbs. The spy's footsteps were muffled as she took in her surroundings by the lights' yellowish glow. By her left was a threadbare maroon sofa, seemingly the main attraction in this front room. There was a questionable looking grey carpet. A chinese takeout pamphlet sat lonely in the middle of the floor. A coffee table was propping up an old television over on the far wall. _'Oh good'._ She made a beeline to turn it on. If Tony wanted her to watch the tv, she'd watch the tv.

The screen flickered to life as she pushed on the power button. "What channel is the news?" She asked, voice muffled slightly by her mask. It occurred to her that Tony still had no idea what she looked like; but honestly, changing out of her clothes right this second was really not a priority. Truth came first, comfort second.

"Uh, five," he paused, sitting down on the sofa, " I think." The burglar sat cross-legged in front of the screen, like a small child enraptured by Saturday morning cartoons. The screen itself was kind of blurry; but the sound was crystal clear. Broadcasted on every channel was one re-occurring theme. S.H.I.E.L.D was no more.

"Oh my God." She whispered, slowly pulling her mask off. There we go, the screen was clearer now. Her brown hair fell into curls around her face and over her shoulders; some of it sticking to the sweat on her forehead. In front of Rebecca, images of the Triskelion's wreckage stared back at her; an African-american newswoman interviewing witnesses of the buildings collapse in front of yellow police tape. "What the hell happened? Is that one of our new airships sticking out of the bay?"

"Yea; it is." Said Tony bitterly, no doubt mourning the misuse of his technology, now floating in the water. "Except those airships belonged to Hydra all along."

Her head whipped around, alarm blatant on her heart-shaped face. Tony's grim stare matched her panicked own; hazel eyes wide as saucers. "What?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D has been run by Hydra all along. From the get go...right underneath my Father's nose. Turns out Director Pierce, the bastard, was a Hydra agent until Natasha just killed him over an hour ago."

"That's insane!" The woman whispered. "How do you know any of this?" Tony pulled a phone out of his pants pocket and tossed it to the woman across from him.

"JARVIS. He screens all relevant news pertaining to S.H.I.E.L.D for me. You see... right before that ship," his pointer finger gestured to the tv, "took out headquarters, every single one of S.H.I.E.L.D's records and files were uploaded onto the a look." With trembling fingers Rebecca slid his screen open.

"Master Stark?" JARVIS questioned, the phone screen lighting up.

"JARVIS, This here is agent Rebecca Jones. Give her access to all of S.H.I.E.L.D's leaked database."

"Of course, sir."

Tony sat back, giving Rebecca some space. While flying over Seattle, JARVIS had read part of her leaked S.H.I.E.L.D file to him. Most of it he had already known; thanks to Fury a couple years ago. she was certainly an interesting woman to have caught the Director's attention. He watched as she scrolled through countless documents; JARVIS guiding her through to show her the most of her agency's corruption. She was still as a statue; except for her eyes and left thumb as it trembled above the phone screen. Stark leaned back into the sofa, mulling over what he know of the woman before him. Agent Jones was fairly young, having just turned twenty-five in January. Being a daughter of a fairly renowned thief-for-hire, she had unfortunately been orphaned at age twelve when the professional cat burglar disappeared off the face of the Earth. Seven years later, S.H.I.E.L.D had a run in with Rebecca during her sophomore year of college; though Tony wasn't quite sure what had gone down for the Agency to have hired her.

Tony stood up then, careful not to disturb the spy and turned off the tv. Her genuine reaction to the downfall of her employer proved to him that she wasn't Hydra. If she was, he would have been attacked, maybe dead already.

Rebecca didn't notice Stark leaving the room, nor heard the telltale sounds of someone moving around a kitchen. She was far too busy dissecting the information before her. Her brain didn't even register the smell of burning food wafting from down the hall. This was it. She had no job, no family, and her past could now be easily accessed by anyone around the globe... If anyone was looking for her father's tech they now knew exactly where to find it. Rebecca was freaking wearing it. Aw man, she was on the map again. Her past, once thought to be erased, was actually a blaring neon sign if anyone cared to delve deep enough into S.H.E.I.L.D's files. Rebecca needed to flee; to get out of Seattle as fast as humanly possible before people came after her.

_'I guess it's time to head up to Canada'._

She was up and almost to the door before she realized there was no billionaire lounging on the sofa to thank for his hospitality. "Uh, Stark?" She called softly, booted feet padding back into the heart of the dark apartment. When she found Stark in the kitchen, stirring a pot of ravioli with an intense look of concentration over his face, she couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. " Hey Mr. Stark-"

"Please, call me Tony. Mr. Stark was my father... I am not that old." He looked up from their food momentarily to lock eyes with her. "Sit."

She glanced around to locate a small wooden table with chairs shoved into the corner. "Okay, but-"

"Nuh-uh. No talking, just eating. Sit." Shrugging, she made her way over to the closest chair, where Tony passed her a plastic bowl which was then filled with steaming pasta. "We've got some stuff to talk about Agent Jones."

"I uh, sure, thank you..." Her bowl was set gently down onto the table top, "but I really need to get out of here. As soon as my father's enemies read about my exploits, I am as good as dead."

He took a moment to respond; the man chewing then swallowing with an audible gulp. "Why is that?"she stayed silent. "Now, I don't know you very well Agent Jones, but from what I do know, you are incredibly skilled an agent. I also don't think you are part of Hydra. Are you?"

"Of course not."

"Good. then you should know that I am aware of your unique burglarizing equipment."

She stiffened ever so slightly, trying not to look defensive about it. "What about my equipment?" It had quite a unique history, one that wasn't entirely legal. One that he shouldn't have knowledge about.

"Only what Fury told me about awhile back. S.H.I.E.L.D's scientists tinkering with it, you having the only model type, et cetera, et cetera. Is there anything about it that _is_ in your file?" Her eyes narrowed, trying to gauge his angle. He seemed innocent enough. In reality, Tony was following up on a hunch. In his world, technology was fought over and sometimes killed over... And her technology seemed pretty unique.

The young spy was slow to answer. "Let's just say I inherited my tech from my father who...stumbled upon its existence awhile back. He tampered with the prototypes, made them better, handed them off to me for safe keeping. My father soon died by the hands of powerful men who wanted their special gadgets back... Or rather, the blueprints detailing those special accessories. I'm not sure if they knew the suit had been a success..." Tony nodded, thinking over the information. it made sense. "None of that is in my file, but if any of those men read about how I successfully completed my missions, they're coming for me. People just don't climb up walls, and melt through glass. Unless," she waved her gloved hands, fingers dancing in front of her face, " people are wearing these."

"Is there anything else your gloves can do?"

"Nothing else that you, or anyone else, needs to know about." Tony raised an eyebrow, but conceded that her caution was understandable. minutes went by, with the two blowing on their ravioli to cool it down, and them subsequently trying to eat the flaming hot food.

Suddenly, Tony had a fabulous idea. "So Princess, do you have a home to go back to?"

"No, actually. I was housed over at the New Mexico facility."

"Hmm. Any family?"

"Nope."

"Loving house pet?"

"No; S.H.E.I.L.D. wouldn't allow pets."Which had been al right with her, as she had a nasty allergy to animal fur.

"Then my dear Agent Jones, you seem to be in need of a billionaire Stark-in-shining-armor. so, what would you say if I offered to help you out?"

She mulled his offer over as they sat in silence munching on food. Help wouldn't hurt in this situation. Maybe she wouldn't have to cross the border after all."Why would you offer to help me?" shrugged; smirking.

"Why wouldn't I? There's something unique about you, and bonus! Fury thought you could be an asset to the team."

"Team?"

"Oh, you know,The Avengers."

The brunette coughed and sputtered at the absurdity of his statement. " What? You can't be serious. That's ridiculous. I'm nothing like you, or The Captain...or-"

"But you are very similar to Romanov and Barton; skills-wise at least. And!" He dropped his fork into a now empty bowl. " Fury let you keep some pretty awesome tech to use on missions. That doesn't happen. Like, ever. Unless you've impressed the man."

"I guess..."

"Not to give you an ego boost, but The Director had you pegged to join the Initiate before it had been shut down three years ago." Memories of training under Maria Hill flashed through Rebecca's mind. Had her mentor recommended her to the Director? He_ had_ come to New Mexico a couple of times to watch the new agents train; right at the beginning. She'd even shaken his hand once. Had the terrifying man with the eye patch really held bigger plans for her than she originally thought? "You probably would have been with us in New York if it weren't for the fact-"

"That I was over in Sydney, Australia at the time. I remember that." That had been one of her most important missions to date, though it was one she wasn't really allowed to speak of.

"But me join the Avengers Initiate? How on earth will that keep me on the down-low?"

"Well, it's not like we're going to plaster 'new avenger' tabloids everywhere. You don't even have to go out and save the world at first!' Tony was geting excited now, his little plan starting to flesh out in his head. "We'll get you a new identity. Maybe dye your hair? If you want, I can set you up as a Stark Industries worker back at the Tower. You know, keep you close and protected to the rest of the Team until we get rid of whoever's going after you." That...could work. There was now a very real possibility she wasn't moving to Canada. "I'll even pay you wages and everything."

"For how long?"

"As long as you want, princess."

"What would you to to my suit?"

"Nothing; unless you asked me to do something to it."

"Promise?"

"Cross my beating heat." A second passed. Then another.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm just trying to preserve some of the good left in this world. I think you'd be pretty good at doing so too."

"I...Thank you."

She soon finished dinner and helped Tony clean the dishes in silence. This was absolutely surreal. Just two hours ago she was racing down the Columbia tower, trying to escape death. Now she was accepting an invitation to eventually become an Avenger from Tony Stark himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am excited. Finally, some Winter Soldier action for you all. Thanks for the continued reading and support!**

The Winter Soldier stumbled and fell; teeth gritted as he fought the seething pain radiating from somewhere beneath his skull. It was happening again. He wasn't sure if the pain was normal for him , because he'd never gone for so long in the world without a memory wipe... at least, that he could remember. Hell, his first memory of memory wiping had just come to him when the headache started two minutes ago. He didn't even know if he could trust the image in his head of the ghastly chair with straps. Just the thought of being pinned down sent his stomach reeling. Whether or not it had actually happened mattered not. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

There was supposed to be nothing else on his mind except to carry out his mission: obey all orders and take down the target as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Oh, but the mission definitely didn't go according to plan tonight.

Everything on his mental agenda had been ticked off quickly and successfully until the target appeared. Then, as fast as the flick of his knife opening, everything went very, very wrong. As the former Soviet assassin tromped his way though underbrush, the earlier jolt of recognition (and the subsequent panic which swept through his system) as his target fell to his death kept replaying in his mind over

and over

and over.

He wanted to scream in frustration. Like a record stuck on repeat, the Soldier's recent memories kept barraging him. His dragging feet did their duty, creating a steady rhythm, putting as much distance between him and the Star Spangled man as possible. He was never going to be far enough pounding, breath heavy, his head throbbing... the entire world was spinning. He shouldn't have saved the target. Obviously The Soldier's body's distress was punishment for deviating. The target should have drowned, his shield eternally marking a watery grave.

Something is his stomach turned uncomfortably at the thought of the target's body turning blue and bloated; just as it had gone queasy with the thought of the chair. He was starting to equate that feeling with wrongness. _He said he **knew** me. _

_No, wait, don't think of the target as a person._

That didn't matter. Well, shouldn't, at least.

The Winter Soldier broke protocol.  
>He <strong>never<strong> broke protocol.  
><em>I let a target live.<em>  
>He should <strong>not<strong> have done that.  
><em>But he KNEW me.<br>_No one knew the Winter Soldier.  
><em>Even I don't know who I am.<em>

At that thought, another searing flame rocked his head, sending him tripping over a tree root. "Bucky!" the target had cried. The name bounced around behind his eyeballs as he lay still in the dirt; thinking. _Who the hell is Bucky? _All these questions were ridiculous. _How did the Captain recognize me? _ There was no time to dwell on unsolvable conundrums. W_ho the hell am I? _**Stop it.**

The Winter Soldier pushed himself off the ground, his mechanical arm's inner gears and circuitry whirring back to life. None of that mattered. He just had to keep moving. Move further away from the river. Away from the broken and bloody man lying on the river bank. With every step taken, with every glimpse of a suppressed memory not of his current mission, he was directly disobeying the very orders seemingly programmed into is soul. It felt wrong; no, it felt right...everything was now a big messy state of confusion.

He had failed everything by remembering... something.

But what?

The emotions which had gripped him back on the airship wrung his lungs and heart again.  
>Whoever his target... that man was... he was <strong>not<strong> allowed to die. Something deep within himself (something he couldn't quite grasp) wouldn't allow it.

At this point, The Soldier almost turned back to satisfy his derailing train of thought. But no, he couldn't. Not now. He just had to hope the dying body of The Captain would be found soon by some civilians. That was the best he could do under the circumstances.

He continued walking, squinting his eyes due to the pain in his skull. He'd give his metal arm to make it go away. Eventually though, the pain subsided and the skyline of the city could be seen through the foliage ahead. The sun was starting to set just above the rooftops. _Good._ He couldn't do anything until it was dark outside anyways. His attire would obviously make himself a target of suspicion and he might be attacked by remaining S.H.I.E.L.D agents no doubt crawling the area.

That was not an option. The Winter Soldier would not die tonight.

_I have a new mission,_ he determined, while sitting on the edge of the forest. But he wasn't quite sure what it was. Yet. _One step at a time._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry about the wait, lovely readers! I turned 18 a couple days ago, but got sick the day after my party. Which sucked... But ****I'm back!**

Free Falling: Chapter 4

After they ate dinner, both had returned back to the apartment's living room. Tony dug around in the couch cushions, excitedly brandishing a remote control after an amusing one sided wrestling match with a nasty tangle of springs. They sat on the floor for hours, intently channel surfing as the breaking news of Captain Steve Rogers missing in action hit late night television. Tony tried to keep a chill disposition, he really did,but a slight finger twitch and a frequent jaw rubbing motion gave away just how worried he was for his friend. It had been two years since Loki threw a tantrum large enough to destroy New York, and since then Steve had become an invaluable friend. In fact, all of the Avengers held certain bond of trust with one another. Before them,all he had was Rhodney and Pepper... His friend group seemed to be shrinking once his distress, Rebecca wandered back into the kitchen and made a big cup of tea to calm her new comrade's nerves.

Since then, it had been approximately twelve hours since the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D, nine hours since Stark and Rebecca watched Steve Rogers be discovered and rushed away in an abulence on live television, and six hours since Tony called in a favor and scheduled a private jet to take himself and the spy back to New York three days asap.

Rebecca was currently situated in a first class airplane seat, just a couple feet away from the snoring billionaire. As soon as they took off he had popped a sleeping pill and zonked out. The spy wished she were as lucky, but flying kind of freaked her out. No way was she going to fall asleep when they could fall out of the sky in some freak accident. Unlike climbing a buildingface, up here in the sky there was literally nothing to cling to. Below the aircraft shone the night lights of some random city down in Michigan. Worry gnawed at her insides, refusing to let the young woman catch a nap. Flying wasn't the only thing messing with her mind. Until Stark cleared up her mess online, Agent Rebecca Jones was as compromised as she could possibly get. Today's situation was one she had never wanted to be in. Well, the same could probably said of every S.H.I.E.L.D agent around the globe. Sighing, she unbuckled her seatbelt, stood up, and stretched her limbs out. With a couple satisfying pops, Rebecca deemed herself spry enough to make a trip to the bathroom.

Soon the she found herself staring tiredly at the mirror. Her dad had always said that she looked like her mother. She'd have to take his word for it. Hazel eyes, fair skin, a cute nose spotted with freckles. Her mother's short frame, presumably. As a kid she had bounced from school to school, but the nicknames had always stayed the same. Elf, pixie, squirt. The names didn't matter, but they were right of course. As a kid she was short, nimble, and quick. Luckily her father had past down his strength and agility. God knows where she'd be without her father's training. If it weren't for his career,she would have been beaten up out in the streets along time ago.

_Running, running. She's got to keep running. They're bigger, and older, but little Rebecca knows that she can run for ages without having to stop. She's sprinting for all she's worth away from a group of boys in the 8th grade, who have decided that the new 6th grade transfer, herself, is to be their new punching bag. She knows, in the moment that she makes a sharp turn through the streets of San Diego, that she hates them. They want her to be scared, bullies thrived off of that, but she isn't. She's too busy trying to figure out how to escape their fists and fits of cackles and whoops to even think of being scared. Everything's going fine, she thinks, until a wrong turn is made and she runs straight into a construction site._

_Uh-oh. Her feet slow, crunching in gravel. Ok, new plan; she needs a hiding place. They're getting close; she can hear them. She runs, she searches, to no avail. She's in a pit. Within minutes her luck seems to have ran out. "Looks like Tinkerbell here can't fly any further!" The leader of the bullies joked to his buddies and they drove her into a corner of an unfinished building. Gravel, dirt, and other building materials littered the floor. There was no one else around the site to hear her call for help. Aw crap. Out of the four boys, the tallest kid with the tell tale signs of a bad shaving job stepped forward and shoved Rebecca down. Gravel met flesh, cutting into her face._

_"Why won't you just leave me alone?" She hissed. They didn't respond, but came even closer to her. Okay, now she was feeling a bit scared. As the leader of the gang crouched down to pull her hair,she spied a pipe lying on the ground. That would do. Seconds later the boy grabbing her hair was on the ground, cluthing his knee to his chest in pain. "Bitch!" Another stepped forward trying to swing a punch. He was smacked in the stomach with the metal pipe, earning a loud "oumph!" The two other boys started to back up in fear._

_"Touch me again and I'll hurt you so bad you'll all die in the hospital as virgins!" Rebecca winced. That didn't sound as threatening aloud as it had in her head._

_"Heheh, uh, settle down Tinkerbell, we were only trying to have a little fun." Yea right. Rebecca's eyes darted around the area, searching for an exit. Without another word, she took off running, throwing herself into the air to catch hold of a platform. She hauled herself up easily and continued to run on top of construction platforms, unfinished walls, and even one suspended I-beam to get herself out of the pit._

_Half an hour later, while sitting on the counter in a rented apartment, her father carefully took tweezers to her face. In the sink were bloody bits of gravel. She stared up at his unshaven face, his blue eyes scrunched in concentration._

_"Daddy, how long do we have to stay here?"_

_"Oh Honey, we'll leave tonight."_

That had been the first fight she had ever been in, and it had left its mark. It certainly wasn't her last fight, and she'd promised herself to keep on going until there was no one out to get her. Rebecca spashed her face with cold water, rubbing her eyes to try and help her stay awake, her left palm brushing against the small scars those bits of gravel left behind so long ago. There were bigger things to deal with than her interesting childhood. She sighed and left the tiny bathroom. They'd be landing soon at the JFK airport and she could grab something caffeinated at a barista stand. They had those on the east coast, right? Seattle had been bursting with them. There was no point going to sleep when she'd have to be awake and traveling through the Big Apple in an hour. Yawning, Rebecca made her way back to her seat.

As nonchalantly as possible, Rebecca brushed up against random travelers who were too distracted to notice her presence. Just as anassumingly, she snatched a blue cardigan off of some sleeping woman's chair. A minute later, someone else's bracelet became her own. The spy felt bad for stealing from inncoent civilians, but a black canvas, kevlar, and leather field suit was really not prime attire to wear through any airport. Luckily, her small stature helped with people looking over her. By the time she stepped out of the airport and into the morning air, she was sporting a pair of white sunglasses, two bracelets, a cheap watch, a green scarf, the cardican, and was carrying a Starbucks Latte. It was a decent disguise, if she said so herself. If anyone glanced at her, she'd totally look like a hipster stepping off a plane from the Puget Sound area.

Up ahead Tony slipped into a sleek limosine which promptly drove off. She, on the other hand, had to wait. About five hundred feet south of where Tony had been picked up, Rebecca stood on the edge of the sidewalk, remembering to fidgit and check her watch like a normal person would. She ran her fingers through her dark brown hair, getting rid of some pesky tangles. Finally, a blue car gently eased to a stop in front of her. The passenger side window rolled down, revealing a smiling man which Tony had called Happy. The big grin on his face certainly lived up to his name. Next stop? Stark Tower.


End file.
